Magnetized
by Irihi B.W
Summary: Extra scenes and 'outtakes' from my story, "Magnet"! From Zidane trying to adapt to the new world to finally reuniting with Squall, these scenes tell the little stories happening within the bigger picture. Rated M for mature chapters. Updated with Magnet.
1. Fitting Room

_Omake 1 – _"Fitting Room" _This happens sometime during the events of __Chapter 3: Flitting Around  
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><p>Although it didn't have much, the Garden Clothier was the only place Squall could bring Zidane for replacement clothing. The blond carried the ripped remains of his vest and shirt, wearing one of Squall's own t-shirts in the meantime and looking incredibly adorable, according to passing women of course. It was far too big for him, the collar nearly falling off his shoulders; Squall didn't understand why he couldn't help but look.<p>

The Garden seamstress had been called prior to their visit with details of what they wanted and not to freak out over the fact Zidane had a tail. She still couldn't resist touching it, and Zidane was thankful it wasn't a grab and yank. Squall briskly told her to get on with her job (Was that a hint of jealousy? Zidane was probably hearing things but…) and she quickly measured Zidane's neck, waist, arm and leg length. With that she went off to the back of the store, leaving the two to meander around.

Since they came to buy him clothes, Zidane went to the nearest rack and began to browse. Although the section he started in was far too big, he safely assumed she could tailor it to his size, but nothing really caught his eyes. Everything was drab, boring, nothing like his usual carefree attire.

"This is all this place has?" Zidane asked after shoving aside the twentieth dark blue shirt. He found a little section of vests similar in shape to his, but were either too thick or made of scratchy material. And all the same crappy colors.

"Most students bring their own clothes from home," Squall replied, also flipping through the items in boredom. "Most the seamstress really does is tailor SeeD and cadet Garden uniforms. This crap is just for those who forgot to do laundry."

Zidane found himself in the bottoms section, looking through pairs of pants and shorts. All were made of the same slightly thick, dark blue material similar to his own pants, although there was something foreign to them. His were made of cured leather, but what the heck was this stuff?

"Jeans," Squall supplied, noticing Zidane's confused look as he fingered a pants leg. "Made of denim."

"That a type of special cloth?" Zidane asked.

"Basically. You want a pair or two?"

Probably couldn't hurt—he had seen others wearing them. Zidane began to search for some that were a little closer to his size, but the farther he got from the bigger pairs, the slimmer the legs of the pants got. He didn't need them slim; he just needed them shorter and a bit…

"That's the girl's section, Zidane."

"What?" Zidane looked up from his search, noticing a pink tag on the rail holding the pants. "There's a difference?"

"Yeah…" Squall seemed a little lost at this point.

"Like what?"

The question made Squall frown, but he couldn't get mad at an innocent inquiry. "The legs are slimmer so the waist and thighs are more… pronounced."

Zidane had noticed some girls wearing these things—jeans, as Squall called them—had rather attractive waist areas. Were these things magical to enhance? Or was it just a way to get pervs like Zidane to look? Then again, it didn't take much to get pervs to look, so…

"Well, the others were too big." Since he didn't have the womanly assets, Zidane saw no reason he couldn't wear these. He pulled a couple off the rail that looked about the right size, and when he looked to Squall, the mercenary had an odd expression on his face. "What?"

"… nothing." He turned to another shirt section. "Let's get you some shirts."

Perplexed by Squall's tone, Zidane nonetheless followed him. Squall plucked a few at random, including a vest Zidane had missed that was made of that denim stuff. Piling it all in Zidane's arms, Squall then led the blond to a room.

"Go try them on," Squall instructed. "Make sure they fit before we buy."

Zidane would have never imagined that door was a fitting room, and when he walked in and shut the door he found very little room to work with. He set the items on the bench, looking them over. Well, the jeans were the same, so he'd only need to try one pair. Probably for the shirts and vest, too…

The shirt was plain and stark white, sort of reminding Zidane of the infirmary walls, and it was a bit oversized but that was alright, it was comfortable and light. Over that he put on the vest, but it was too thick and felt far too heavy, so he discarded the vest and tried on the jeans.

Except they were far too tight with his tail stuck in them. "Squall," Zidane called.

"What?"

"These… jean things, I can't put them on. My tail…"

"Well, do they fit otherwise?"

Hell if he knew. Zidane figured he'd suffer for a few moments and, pushing the jeans down for a moment, wrapped his tail was tightly around his leg as possible before pulling the pants back up. The closing contraption was a little strange, but easy enough to figure out. Once they were on, Zidane frowned—far too tight in the waist area, and there was absolutely no room for his… well, manly bits.

Zidane opened the door to directly speak to Squall. "Yeah, these aren't gonna work."

Squall looked at him, and suddenly his eyes dropped down. Zidane blinked when Squall's cheeks took a slight, barely noticeably redness and he took a step forward to inquire what was wrong. Once he moved, Squall's eyes snapped back up to his face.

"Go… change." Squall muttered, turning away and busying himself with looking somewhere other than Zidane.

Zidane blinked in confusion, but then he glanced down. Now in better light, he realized what may have flustered Squall. The blond smirked, a bit on the proud side, tossing Squall a look before sauntering back into the dressing room.

Zidane swore he felt Squall's eyes on his butt too, and it only made him smirk more. Maybe with a bit of adjusting he could still get the jeans.


	2. MP3 Shenanigans! Part I

_Omake 2 – MP3 Shenanigans! Part I – This takes place during the week of travel to Trabia Garden.  
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><p>"I'm bored," Zidane announced, and Squall looked up from the textbook he was pretending to study out of. Not like he had classes anymore, anyway…<p>

"And?" the mercenary asked, reaching over and picking up his can of soda. He took a drink, finishing it and tossed it behind him; either Squall was amazing or just a good shot, but he managed to avoid hitting the SeeD behind him and landing the can in the trash can. Those in the cafeteria that sound it awed at it for a second.

Zidane glowered a bit at Squall, ignoring the crowd. "This trip is driving me crazy. Don't you hate this trapped feeling?"

"The Garden isn't the biggest, but it's fairly large for someone of your size." Squall looked back at his book to prevent himself from smirking when Zidane let out an indignant sound.

"Don't make fun of my height!" Zidane whined. He was going to whine again when he realized Squall was _teasing_ him.

That made Zidane pause and, while pretending to glare, study Squall. His face didn't change much, but to the one who used to look at it all the time Zidane could see the slight amused crinkle at the corner of his eyes. How his lips were a bit pursed to prevent either a smile or smirk, and how he kept his head low to hide all those subtle changes. Days in, and Zidane went from total mistrust to… being _teased_?

Despite that really shouldn't matter, Zidane instantly forgive him simply because it meant a bit a normalcy was coming to them. Well, normalcy for Zidane…

While giving Squall the studious eye, Zidane finally noticed an odd string hanging from around Squall's neck. Following it, he noted it went to Squall's pocket, and he tilted his head in confusion. "Hey, Squall," Zidane called, and the mercenary glanced at him. "What's hanging from your neck?"

Squall frowned a bit in confusion, reaching up to feel what the hell he was talking about. His hand ran into the wire and pulled an ear bud down, and Zidane stared as it landed and rested neatly in Squall's palm. Realizing that's what the blond meant, Squall shifted so he could dig into his pocket and produced a slim, palm-sized box.

"It's an MP3-player," Squall explained. Zidane's vapid look didn't improve, so Squall pressed a small button on the side, making it light up; Zidane's eyes widen in wonder. "It plays music."

"Music?" Zidane stared at the little thing. "I don't hear anything."

"It's not on," Squall replied. Realizing this could keep Zidane quiet for a few precious minutes, he pulled the rest of the wire from his neck and handed the headphones to Zidane. "Put the ends into your ears, make sure you're comfortable."

Zidane did as he was told, although no matter how he put the things in it wasn't very comfortable. Squall then handed him the box, and pointed at the circle thing beneath the glowing part.

"Press the bottom part of the wheel to play," Squall said. "The top part takes you to the menu, honestly don't bother, I don't feel like explaining it. If you don't like the song that plays, press the left side to change to a different song. If you like the song enough to replay it, before it ends press the right side."

Zidane stared at all the words on the glowing part, unsure of where to start. Seeing his hesitation, Squall ran his finger along the wheel, scrolling to the very top of the list until the player highlighted 'shuffle.' He then pressed play.

Zidane jumped once the music stared, nearly dropping the player. His eyes darted around him, wide and awed, and Squall really had to fight the urge to laugh when the blond fixated on him the look a five year old gave when discovering something amazing.

"Wow!" Zidane exclaimed, louder than needed, and Squall tried to shush him. "It works!"

Now thusly fascinated and quiet, Zidane stared at the player as Squall went back to his war strategies book. The amount of sound the little box produced amazed Zidane immensely, and the 'music' was obviously much different than any he heard, yet he found himself liking the hard sounds and banging drums. Reading the screen, he noticed the words _Rock music_ as well as what he presumed was the title of the song.

Zidane randomly pressed the left side of the wheel, and the song cut off, the screen changing to show a different title. Although the instruments seemed the same, the voices that came through were obviously female, and Zidane rather liked how her melodic singing went with the otherwise loud sounds.

_She's talented_, Zidane thought. _Reminds me of someone…_

As the song played, picking up pace and crescendo, Zidane closed his eyes for a moment and focused on the voice. It wasn't anything like it, but it still brought a flash of a memory to mind. A young woman, with long dark hair, dressed in orange with a huge crystal hanging from her neck.

_War-world?_ Zidane opened his eyes. No, he remembered the war-world and that woman wasn't a part of it. Homeworld, then.

He suddenly felt sick, and Zidane repeatedly press the left side of the wheel to stop hearing the voice. Once the voice faded, so did the faint memory and homesickness he felt. He sighed in relief, although Squall didn't seem to notice it, and the next song started off a little different from the others.

Zidane strained the listen, and the song began to build up volume. A man's voice soon joined the instruments, but as he listened Zidane's brow furrowed. The few songs he heard before, he understood what the singer sang about, but after the first few lines (of which all he caught was a few women's names) he was already lost.

The chorus, he assumed, played and repeated a word he never heard of. It didn't sound anything like he heard before, so he couldn't even try to guess what it meant. Looking at the screen, he mouthed the title silently, and realized the word was in the title.

"Hey, Squall!" Zidane said, again far too loudly than he needed. Squall cringed, looking up.

"You don't have to raise your voice, Zidane, just because you're listening to loud—"

To Squall's horror, Zidane didn't hear his scold. Instead, the blond held up the player and, perhaps even louder, inquired, "What's _porn_?"

It was as if the entire cafeteria went quiet, and Squall stared disbelieving at Zidane. The blond waited a few moments, the song still going on as loud as ever and filling his ears. When Squall's mouth didn't move, Zidane repeated the question, even louder.

"It's about a _porn_ and a dancing star, what's it mean?"

Squall could feel everyone's eyes on him as even the cafeteria workers heard him. Pornography was banned from Garden, of course, and was considered a top-rated offense. The mercenary snatched the player from Zidane's hand, staring at the song title.

"Hyne _damn you, Zell_!" Squall yelled, and he could hear Zell laughing as the boxer escaped the cafeteria with a giggling Selphie and Irvine trailing him.

"Squall?" Zidane shouted.

The mercenary said nothing, just slouching in his seat and hitting his free palm to his face.

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><p>*<strong>The player is an iPod, yes, and the song in question is "Porn Star Dancing" by My Darkest Days.<strong>


	3. Technological Advance Part I

_Omake 3 – Technological Advance I – Takes place during the trip to Trabia  
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><p>"How was I supposed to know?" Zidane complained, thumping his head against the wall.<p>

Rinoa glanced up from whatever she was doing in her lap. "Well, Squall's a bit of a… prude." She smiled a bit. "Although it's cute, it does lead him to being a bit… over-reactive. Plus, Zell _always_ messes with his stuff, and Squall can't handle people messing with his stuff."

Zidane didn't want to start a possible quibble by saying he messed with Squall's stuff and all he did was huff. It was so painfully obvious Rinoa had a crush on Squall, and as much as he wanted to push her aside and lay claim, Zidane knew he couldn't do that and get away with it. This world was against him.

Misunderstanding Zidane's even gloomier mood, Rinoa got up from her seat and plopped next to him, showing him what was in her hand. It looked a lot like Squall's music thing, but the screen was much bigger and Zidane could see there was a lot of extra stuff on it. He gave Rinoa a blank look, because frankly, how did this relate?

Rinoa smiled at him. "This is a cellphone," she explained. "It's like a normal phone, except I can carry it with me."

Zidane blinked, then leaned forward a bit to look at the contraption closer. "I saw a 'phone' in Balamb… this doesn't look like one."

"Cellphones are smaller and easier to manage," Rinoa said. She touched the screen and it changed, and Zidane's eyes lit up at the little display that showed. "It also can do a lot of things, like send messages to other cellphones and play games."

"That's neat," Zidane said, fully meaning it. Rinoa handed it to him, and tentatively Zidane touched the screen. When it reacted, his amazement grew. "What's it doing?" he asked.

"That's a game," Rinoa said. "See, you put your finger here, slide it back a bit… then lift your hand…"

The weird sounds coming from the device were enough to amuse Zidane greatly, and watching this ball thing fling across the screen to impact on some badly drawn walls somehow made him gleeful. Was this thing magical? It had to be—Zidane knew he was flighty enough to normally never be this entertained by such a simple concept for long.

Yet he couldn't bear to give Rinoa the phone back, playing the 'game' thing with a wide grin and his tail waving happily in the air. Rinoa just watched, smiling herself, finding it how adorable it was that Zidane could be made so easily happy. Well, she had some spare Gil laying around, so why not…

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><p>Zidane wasn't used to having a gift given to him. Typically he was the giver, and once in a great while did Squall do such a gesture in the war-world. But the blond knew for a fact he typically was the one giving gifts to women, not women giving gifts to him. Yet when Rinoa presented to him his very own cellphone, he was <em>ecstatic<em>.

She even spent a good two hours explaining and showing him how it worked, programming her number into it for him and explaining what _speed dial_ meant. Now, should Zidane ever get lost in Garden, he could call Rinoa and she could either direct him or go find him. It was nice to know he had someone to rely on, but Zidane wished he could call on _Squall_...

"Do the others have cellphones?" Zidane asked once Rinoa finished her little lesson.

She looked thoughtful. "Zell might, Selphie and Irvine do I know for sure. Quistis I don't think so, she doesn't trust the new sub-FM waves…"

Zidane blinked. "Sub-what-what?"

Rinoa giggled, lightly scratching her cheek with a fingernail. "Cellphones usually run on radio waves, but since the war, radio waves don't work. So recently there was an outbreak for something called 'sub-FM waves' that work like them, but only for cellphones. But they don't have great distance; I think you could only call a cell that was on the same landmass."

"Well, I guess that works," Zidane wasn't going to admit most of what she said went over his head. "I mean, anyone I'd call with this thing would be on the same landmass as me I'd think."

"Well, you never know. Maybe Squall gets deployed elsewhere?"

Zidane blinked. "Then I'd go to him."

Rinoa paused. Such a simple innocent answer, yet something about it tugged at her. Was it that simple? Just cross the distance, no matter how much? Was Zidane as wise as he was otherworldly or was he just naïve and overly innocent? Rinoa couldn't quite pin it, it was as if it were a mix. An adorable mix, to be sure. No wonder Squall liked him enough to keep him.

As a friend, of course. She nodded for no reason, but Zidane didn't ask.

"Does Squall have one?" Zidane asked, and Rinoa wondered if that was as innocent of a question as it seemed like.

"No," she answered, honestly. "He doesn't like those things."

Zidane looked down at his, tapping the screen idly. "Seems convenient to have one."

Rinoa giggled. "I tried to convince him, didn't work."

After a few more moments of light banter, Rinoa went off to get food as Zidane fiddled with his new toy. He should go get the others' numbers… but Zidane knew he'd never call them, even if he were in real trouble. Mostly because he could handle himself, and if he were in trouble away from them, a phone wasn't going to change much in the tide of battle. But, it'd be nice if Squall had one and he could call him…

Rinoa said he didn't want one and she tried. Maybe Zidane could figure out something. Thus determined, Zidane slid the phone into its holder and clipped it to his trousers' belt loop. This world had a lot of gadgets, and as much as he wanted, Zidane was sure he couldn't take any home… but it'd be so _cool_.

Squall was hanging out in his dorm like the lone lion he was, so Zidane had to go to the other side of the Garden from where he met with Rinoa. During the walk, his hands tucked into his pockets, Zidane tried to think of a convincing argument for Squall to get a contraption just because the thief wanted him to get it. After all, Squall was a very practical man, and if he didn't need it he didn't want it.

Zidane considered using the same argument Rinoa said, giving him someone to call if he got lost. But then Squall would tell him to find a map or ask someone walking by… and Zidane had a feeling he wasn't going to really be 'deployed' away from Squall. Plus, Zidane knew if he was going to a battlefield, he probably wouldn't take the thing anyway.

So really, Zidane had no argument.

Still, he might as well show it off, just for an excuse to be around him. And so the thief turned into the dorms and, with the keycard he _borrowed_ from Rinoa, entered the SeeD dormitory and went into Squall's.

Immediately Zidane smelled something rather _delicious_ coming from the little kitchenette, and as he walked in and the door clicked closed behind him with a beep, Squall's head poked out from the kitchenette.

Zidane expected him to be annoyed, but he swore he saw a bit of relief on Squall's face for a split second before it was replaced by the usual neutral look. "Good timing," Squall said lightly as he went back to the kitchenette. "I made too much and hate leftovers. Hope you're hungry."

"I wasn't, but now I am," Zidane answered, going to the counter that separated the kitchenette and living room.

He hoped up on a stool, as the counter was too high to just lean against, and Squall slid a plate toward him. Resting on it was a large dollop of noodles and bite-sized vegetables all slathered in a creamy white sauce topped with grated cheese; the small alone made Zidane's stomach growl, and he swore Squall was smirking when he handed him a fork and put an open can of soda next to Zidane's plate.

Zidane smiled at him before digging in, Squall fixing his own plate and grabbing a bottle of water. He stood across from Zidane on the kitchenette's side of the counter, the pair eating in comfortable silence. Since Zidane wouldn't stop stuffing his face, Squall would have to say his experiment was a success… or Zidane was just that hungry. He rather liked it, so Squall made a mental note to make it again some other time.

Once Zidane's plate was cleared—_twice_, so Squall safely assumed it was good—and he downed it all with a soda, the thief finally fished out his cellphone.

Before he could say a word, Squall cut in. "Can you even _use_ that?"

Zidane frowned a bit. "Jerk. Yes, I can! Rinoa taught me."

The idea of Rinoa and Zidane getting along was a funny one, for some reason Squall couldn't fathom. "And she asked you to convince me to get one," Squall responded.

Zidane noted the bland way he spoke, and paused for a moment. It would get out if Squall had a cellphone… and no doubt his peace and quiet in the dorm would end if he had one. The others would call or text (_yes_, she caught him texting too!) all the time, Zidane was sure…

"I was gonna try, but not for her, no." Zidane answered truthfully. "But…"

Squall sipped his water. "It's a convenient annoyance. I don't want one."

"Understandable—"

"But still convenient. How about this," Squall put the water down on the counter, leaning on the cool surface and resting on his elbows, arms tucked near his chest as he leaned forward a bit. "You got one already. You're my new roommate as of now, we'll share it."

Zidane blinked. "Share it?"

"You can deal with the annoying aspect," oh, was _that_ how it worked? "And if it's an actual emergency, I'm typically around you that you can let me know."

Zidane wanted to argue—it was _his_ phone!—but at the same time, he quite liked the idea of sharing something with Squall again. Other than living space, of course… although it meant he couldn't just call up Squall… well. He just blatantly said they would always be around each other. Zidane had to fight a blush.

"Okay," the thief said, hoping he didn't sound too happy. "I can deal with that."

Squall nodded, sipping his water. That was that, and Zidane quite liked the outcome.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Whew, welcome to _Magnetized_! We're starting out slow and going 'in order', so right now we're back to the time they aren't together, but still fun times =D

Please be aware _**not everything that happens in Magnetized will appear in Magnet!**_While some things do happen in _Magnet_, these are largely 'small' happened scenarios that don't merit too much credit in the main story. Either way, I hope you enjoyed the first few chapters—there's more to come, especially since these are much shorter than typical _Magnet_ chapters. =)

_**Because Magnetized will have more 'hardcore' chapters later on, this story is rated M**_.


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